Signs of Love
by ChaosWithImagination
Summary: BIfur knows he had changed from what he used to be, ever since that axe incident. He longs for someone that would love him for who he is now., but fears if that love would last at all , considering how he is. When fate throws him a chance to be with his One, will he take the chance?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Bifur

Bifur knew he was different. Ever since that fateful day when he had collected that axe to the head, he had changed. As far as he knew his road to recovery had felt like he was trying to make a long and tiring journey home. The only problem was he never quite got there. But he got close. And for a long time it was frustrating to be so close to home, to close to going back to familiar things, but unable to attain the desired destination. Then he came to realize that he would never get there. He could never go home, could never feel and think familiar things anymore. And strangely he was not sad anymore. It was like a huge burden had been taken off his shoulders and Bifur began to learn about his new self.

He realized that he liked to talk Khuzdûl and sign with Iglishmek more than he liked to speak the common speech. Why? Because Khuzdûl and Iglishmek were considerably more expressive. So Bifur decided that he would not speak in the common speech anymore. Then he realized that he could sink deep into his thoughts, so deep that it sometimes looked like he was not present in his mind. That was not true. He could hear and see everything that went on around him; it was just that he sank so deep that his body kind of shuts down and turns all its energy to thinking. But Bifur liked that. It gave him a way out when the world began to crowd in on him.

And the world often crowded him. When he saw the looks on people's faces as they noticed the axe in his head. It got crowded. And when his kin tried to hide the brief flashes of pity that they still felt; it got crowded. But the worst times was when Bifur saw two dwarves courting or a married couple. Things got horribly crowded then. He had long given up on finding his One. For what dwarf maiden would love him, when they knew that if they married him they would have to care for him more than normal? And also he would not be able to return affection the way a normal dwarf male would. But the yearning was always there. And when things got too crowded Bifur would get up and walk out into the street and just wander.

He would walk half sunk in thought with his head tilted slightly to the side and down so he could look at people's hands as he passed them. He loved watching people's hands. Everyone's fingers moved almost all the time making subtle motions that gave away what they were thinking of feeling. It was like a universal form of Iglishmek; one which Bifur had come to learn ever since his incident. Then suddenly he saw it. A pair of hands that was not just making random motions that he was putting interpretations to; but hands that was making sure if not crude Iglishmek signs.

He almost stopped to observe it but then lost the hands when the person continued walking. Bifur hurried to find the pair of hands; he thought he had lost it when he saw them again. He began to follow the hands, trying to make sense of the signs.

"_Stupid hair. It just makes no sense_" was one line he made out. Then

"_Threads and reels. Threads and reels. All I want is a knife and a piece of wood_." And so on it went as if the person was signing responses to a conversation. But Bifur was sure that the hands were not signing to anyone else, so who was the person talking to?

Suddenly the hands made a weird sign. Bifur frowned. He was sure that was not an Iglishmek sign. The hands made the sign again and Bifur caught on the crude movements and with a flash of inspiration he realized what word the person was trying to sign. With two swift steps he caught up to the hands and took hold of the person's wrist.

A soft gasp sounded in his ears. He looked up to see a pair of angry light brown eyes staring back at him. Then the emotion in the eyes changed to something he did not recognize. He shrugged it off and said softly, "_Wrong sign_."

"_Wrong sign?"_ a deep melodious voice asked him. Bifur felt a tremor run through his body. He shook that off too.

"_Swine eating hog is supposed to look like this_," Bifur said and took the hands in his own. As he moved the fingers to shape into the sign Bifur felt strangely calm and settled. It was the same feeling one would get if one had been searching for something precious and had finally found it. He had finished making the sign but he did not want to let go of the hands. He wanted, no he needed to hold onto them.

The voice chuckled and Bifur looked up to see the face a beautiful dwarf maiden smiling at him.

"_So that's how you do it_?" she said, "_I…I don't know much signs. So I sometimes make some up for words I do not know_. _Could you teach me some more?_"

Bifur felt a warmth rush through him as she spoke and settle in his heart. She was his One. He was sure of it. Then as if he got struck he stepped back. His head felt unusually clear and strong. He could not. He could not burden his One with himself. He was not fit for being a mate. As he let go of her hands he felt as if he let go of a lifeline. Then without a grunt that sounded like a sob he turned and made off into the crowd as fast as he could.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Urla always knew she was different. she knew it ever since she completely disregarded all the traditional dwarf maiden likes such as hair weaving and sewing Her heart beat to the tunes of metal smithing and wood crafting. The only maiden-like that she could stand was weaving. He father called her his 'should have been son'. She never minded at all since he indulged her and taught her all the things he would have taught a son. By the time she was fifteen she knew how to craft and wood whittle. But it was all done in secret of course, since her mother was very strict on all her daughters being properly educated as dwarf maidens, so when they found the One, they could care for them the right way.

Urla didn't much care for all that finding love and being with her One. She was not the most romantic dwarf maiden and she always thought that since a knife and a block of wood made her happy on her lonely nights, they would continue to do so till she died. When she had told her mother that; her mother simply sighed, claimed that she would never find her One and that she would be stuck with Urla till she passed on. Urla had simply laughed. And she had continued to laugh until that fateful day when a strange dwarf grabbed her hand.

Urla's father had taught her Khuzdûl and iglishmêk since she was old enough to learn it. And many nights they would sit and chat in their ancient tongue and sign to each other. When Urla's father died, she never stopped talking and signing. In fact her thoughts were always in Khuzdûl and she signed iglishmêk subconsciously when she was in thought, answering her self. She knew it was a weird trait but she didn't stop it because it made her remember her father. On that fateful day she was walking to her hair braiding and sewing class, which she hated and talking and signing to her self about how much she hated it. She was actually feeling so mad about going that she signed one of her own designed Khuzdûl signs, twice for effect. When she finished signed them she felt a hand grab her wrist.

She instinctively turned to glare at whoever it was that had the audacity to grab her hand without saying something first. Her harsh gaze met with intense brown grey eyes. '_My One_." The words rang so true and hard through her that she felt breathless.

"_Wrong sign_," he said in Khuzdûl and he proceeded to taken both her hands in his. Urla knew that she should pull away like a proper dwarf maiden should, but she didn't. He was her One. She didn't want him to stop touching her hands.

"_Wrong sign_?" she asked in Khuzdûl. His eyes were fixed on her hands as he moved her fingers to assume a sign position.

"_Swine eating hog is supposed to look like thi_s," he said and then stopped moving her fingers. Urla looked at him holding her hands and he looked so pleased that she chuckled. He looked up at her again and again her breath was taken away by his intense gaze. She felt her lips slide into a crooked smile. She wanted to thank him, wanted to say something but the words were stuck in her throat. When the silence between them started to go on longer, Urla realized she had to say something or else people would being to wonder.

"_So that's how you do it_?" Urla said the grim still on her face, "_I...I don't know much signs. So sometimes I make some for words i don't know._" Then she decided to risk it and make a move, "_Maybe you could teach me some more?"_

The change that came over him was so sudden that Urla had no time to react. He flinched and then stepped back, dropped her hands and practically ran off. The loss of his warm hands cut into Urla. She felt tears well up and burn her eyes as he disappeared into the crowd. She stood there for a while then spun back and continued to her class. Her teacher was pleasantly surprised when she humbly apologized for being late and sat meekly through class; she thought she had finally gotten through to Urla and had impressed the importance of hair braiding and sewing to her most troublesome student.

The truth was Urla was feeling too tired, depressed and numb to put up any fight today. Her One had run from her. It was as good as a rejection. The tears were ever present ready to burst from her eyes to escape the prison of her heart. But she refused to let them out. She walked out from class and made her way home in silence. she by-passed all her favourite haunts and didn't stop and say hello at the forge like she usually did. Her family noticed the silence and asked her what was wrong and if she was sick but she brushed off the questions; insisting that she was fine. She went to her room right after and took up her knife and block of wood. Then she sat on her bed looking down at her hands. All of sudden she began to cry.

She missed him. she didn't even know him. Didn't know what he looked like, since she only saw his eyes. Didn't know his name, didn't know what he did, didn't know anything but the warmth of his touch and the deep tenor of his voice. But she missed him. She curled up and clutched the blade and block to her chest. It was ironic she thought, she had always claimed that she only needed this knife and block to make her happy. Now all she had was cold steel and lifeless wood for comfort when she wanted the warm arms of her One around her.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Bifur sat deep in thought. Usually his mind would be wandering from one topic to another but not so today. Today it was just one. His One. The dwarf maiden with the deep melodious voice and the brilliant smile. Bifur felt a tremor pass through him and he actually shivered despite the pleasant warmth of the fire. Bombur and Bofur were trying not to stare at he, he could tell. He had been sitting still for far longer than normal but he didn't want to come out of his thoughts, because his thoughts were the only place where he could be with his One. Bofur finally got up and came over.

"Are ye alright?" Bofur asked a concerned look replacing his normal bright smile, "Do you need anything?"

Bifur sighed within himself. What he needed was his One. When he held her hand he felt something that was both familiar and different. He didn't quite know what it was but he wanted to feel it again. He looked up at Bofur trying to find words to describe… Then Bifur realized he didn't know what her name was. He didn't know what she looked like except for her hands and her eyes. He sighed again and slipped back into thought searching his memories in a slow but frantic pace trying to find something else about her. He heard Bofur sigh and then pat his shoulder as he moved away. Bifur felt sorry that he had hurt his cousin but he had nothing to tell him. Suddenly the room felt too crowded and Bifur needed to get out. He got up and hurried outside before his kin could stop him.

The night air cleared the sensation from his mind a bit, but not as much as the time when he had first met his One.

'_Why did I run_?" Bifur asked himself, "_Why did I run?" _

At the time it had seemed like a good idea. It seemed right not to burden her. She didn't know him and he didn't even know if she recognized him as her One. He hoped that she didn't so the separation would be easy to bear. But he didn't take into consideration of he would be able to bear it. He had believed that he would be able to, but his resolve had lasted a pathetic day.

Suddenly he bumped into someone. He grunted in apology, looking at their hands to see it they were angry or not. Then he froze. He knew those hands. Instinctively he grabbed the hands.

_'Swine eating hog' _the fingers rapidly signed in Iglishmek. Bifur growled and looked up to see the face of his One. She was smiling at him. Bifur felt his tension melt away as she leaned heavily into him and buried her face through his beard onto his chest. He mind felt bright and strong as he held her close to him. He now knew what the feeling was. That strange familiar and different feeling. It was Love. HE loved this dwarf maiden. His One.

Bifur held her unable to let go and not caring that he couldn't. He didn't know how long they stood there in the night. Then his One shivered. He pushed her away and took her hands. The skin was cold. He quickly drew her along walking quickly down the street. There was a small inn not far from where they were. He knew the Inn keeper well and the man always ket a room open for him ever since he got rid of some particularly nasty vagabonds for the inn keeper. Bifur stayed in that room regularly when he needed to get out and be away.

The dwarf maiden followed him silently. Bifur wondered is she was afraid. After all he didn't say anything to her. HE turned and looked into her eyes and realized that he didn't need to say anything. Her eyes looked back into his and told him that she trusted his actions and that she knew why he was dragging her along. He felt something inside him settle and he strode forward more clear minded and purposeful.

The Inn Keeper winked and grinned at him as he handed him the door key. With one hand still holding onto His One, he led her to the room. Once inside he set her down on a chair and began to stroke the fire. When it was a healthy roar, he turned to see her coming over with a kettle. She hung the kettle over the flames. Bifur felt a smile tug at his lips. She turned and grinned at him. Bifur took the moment to etch her face in his memory; those light brown eyes tinted a rose colour by the flames, her straight nose and thin upper lip with a fuller bottom lip. His eyes trailed over her arched eyebrows and hair that fell in a thick braid down her back and one smaller one, that came from just behind her ear, curled on her neck and down over her breasts. She had a spars beard. It seemed like all her hair went to the top of her head.

Bifur reached out and held her face with both his hands. She leaned into his touch. His fingers signed '_My One_' against her skin. Her eyes widened. Jus then the kettle sang out and they both jumped. Bifur got the cups while she got the kettle and then they sat down to drink tea. Bifur thought that it might feel strange and awkward sitting with his One like this, just the two of them alone together. But he found it wasn't so, it was all very comforting and they sat in pleasant silence sipping the hot brews. The quite familiarity of drinking together with her warmed him more than the hot liquid.

When they were done she held out her hands to him. He placed his hands in hers and she proceeded to move his fingers to form part of a sign. Then she twisted her fingers and placed it next to his completing the sign. Bifur felt his heart race up and skip a beat at the same time. The sign read; "_My One_."


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Urla never thought she would have seen her One again after he ran from her. She had been so depressed that she hadn't even carved with her knife. And when her mother had asked her what the matter was, for what felt like the fortieth time, Urla had given a scream and ran out the house.

As she had wandered in the streets in the cool night air, she realized just how stupid her reaction was and maybe she should just have told her mother what happened. She had been thinking about heading back home when someone bumped into her and grabbed her hands. Her fingers had signed '_Swine eating hog_' without her even thinking about it. Then she had looked up to see her One. Her heart had stopped for a moment and then it began racing. She had felt her face widen into a smile and suddenly all the depression and hurt she had been holding inside her; flooded her and she had leaned forward onto him. His beard was soft and she could hear his heart beating just as rapidly in his chest as hers was. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and then to her surprise she felt his arms slip around her to hold her tight against him. '_I love him_,' the thought had run through her and made her shiver.

He had then pushed her away, and it only when she was out of that embrace did she realize that the shiver came not only from her feelings but also from the cold. He had held her hands, given her a look that showed all the concern he felt and then led her quickly down the street. She had followed him willingly knowing that he was probably taking her some place where she could get warm. She didn't know how she knew, but she trusted him. He was her One. He would not hurt her. He did lead them to an inn and when he begun to tend to fire, Urla had looked around to see what she could do to help. She spotted the kettle and thought of tea, since she was sure that he would be cold as well, if she was. So she had filled the kettle and came over to place it over the flames.

He had looked at her and she had smiled back, not knowing what else to do. Then once again he surprised her by reaching out and holding her face in his hands. The skin of his palms had been pleasantly rough and she had leaned into the firm but gentle hold. She had then felt his finger move against her skin. '_My One_.' She had been sure he signed those signs against her cheek. Her eyes widened and she had been about to answer when the kettle sang out.

Now here she was sitting opposite to her One having tea in calm silence. She felt like she was in a dream.

When it was done she decided to risk being bold again and find out for sure if he recognized her as his One. So she held out her hands and as she hoped he placed his in hers. Then she moved his fingers to form half of the sign and then made her fingers to finish it. '_My One'_ both their hands made the sign.

She saw his eyes open wide and then look into her own light brown ones. Then he seemed for a moment to slip away from her. His eyes seemed focused on something else. It was then that she took the time to look over him. She had never really taken the time to look properly at her One. Her attention had been divided between his hands and his eyes.

The first thing she saw was the axe in his head. The blade was buried up to the flat hilt and the head of it was sticking out. She blinked once taking it in and suddenly she understood the reason why he had slipped away from her. Her One was a bit different from normal dwarves. She reached up and touched the axe head. His eyes snapped back to her with a sudden clarity. Fear, sorrow and a harsh pride showed hard in those eyes. Urla took in all those emotions and very slowly she ran her fingers over the scars that spread from the imbedded axe. As her fingers trailed down the smooth lines of his scars, she felt his emotions keenly. Fear; that she would reject him because of it, sorrow; that he could not be like the other dwarves and respond to her as a normal male would, and the fierce pride; he did not regret what happened, so it must have happened in a situation where he had done his best for a good cause and this was his fate now to bear. Urla wondered if all dwarves had this sort of connection with their One; it was a painful but beautiful thing. She didn't care that he had an axe in his head. He was her One and she loved him no matter what he was like. She would not trade him for anything.

Her fingers ran down from the scars and softly over his thick brows that were shot through with silver. She wondered how old he was; not that it mattered to her but he must have seen much and been through much and she wanted to find out about his life experiences. She then trailed her fingers further down over his nose making him twitch a bit and resulting her laughing softly. Her smiled at her then seemed to freeze when her hands drifted over his lips briefly then she sank her fingers into his soft beard. She held his braids, running her fingers down them gently marveling at how he managed to have the interlocking black and white of his hairs done so neatly and tied at the end with silver.

She felt him smile again and then he spoke softly.

"_Stupid hair. It just makes no sense_,' he said in Khuzdûl. Urla glanced up, recognizing the line as hers, into those intense grey brown eyes and gave a sheepish shrug.

"_Your hair is nice. Mine is stupid_," she tossed her head a bit feeling the weight of her plait against her back. He reached up and held the braid hanging from her neck. Holding it between his first finger and thumb, he ran his hand down the length of it then pulled it to his lips.

"_Beautiful_," he spoke against it. Urla felt her skin flush. Then he dropped it suddenly and looked away again from her. But Urla simply smiled and reached up to touch the hair on his head. It was a thick, black, somewhat unruly mane of hair.

"_Braid it sometime_?" she asked, not daring to look into his eyes. Maybe she was being too bold this time. But the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

"_You are my One_," he said softly, as if in awe. Urla felt tears of relief and happiness well up inside her. He recognized her. She nodded back to him her hands falling back to her lap.

"_Yes,_" she replied, "I _am. And you are mine_. _You are my One_." In that moment something happened. Urla could not place her finger on it but something changed in her One. The wandering look in his eyes grew less and he seemed to have more shape. It was the best way she could explain it. It was like the times when she had a piece that she thought was finished and then she would make a small nick in the wood somewhere and the whole piece would seem to shape out and become a better piece than before.

"_Bifur_," he said smiling again now.

"_Urla_," Urla said smiling back at him.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Bifur looked down at his One curled up next to him. After she had told him her name, she had given a huge yawn and then covered her mouth quickly. Bifur had frowned and took her hand, pulling to the small bed that stood in one end of the room. She had nodded tiredly and gotten in, telling him to wake her in ten minutes. Bifur had nodded and he had really intended to wake her. But then he saw her shivering again and before he could stop himself, he had crawled into the bed next to her and had pulled her into his arms. She had gripped his tunic in her fist and snuggled into his chest.

Ten minutes had passed and here he was still holding her tightly to him. He knew he should wake her and get her home but she looked so peaceful sleeping that he didn't have the heart to do it. He reached over and stroked her hair, trailed his fingers down her cheek. He signed, 'My one' against her cheek once again. She stirred at his touch and opened her eyes to look at him. Bifur felt that warm emotion rush through him at the sight of her bright brown eyes and soft smile. Then her eyes widened in alarm.

"_The time_!" she exclaimed in Khuzdûl, her eyes darted to the window. Bifur followed her gaze to the wooden slats. The pink light of dawn was beginning to filter through. Bifur leapt up grabbing her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"_The room?_," she asked.

"_Leave it_," Bifur said, "_Home now_." Urla nodded and followed him out the door and into the early dawn. Bifur led her at quite a pace down the streets, back to where he met her. He was worried that she would not be able to keep up with him, but when he turned she did not seem hurried or out of breath. But her eyes were filled with fear. Bifur grunted in exasperation.

'_Why didn't you just wake her_?' Bifur chided himself. But he knew why. He didn't want the night to end. Didn't want to be separated from his One. Finally they reached to where Bifur bumped into her. Bifur stopped and looked at her.

"_Which way?"_ he asked. His One looked surprised then he saw it. The moment when she seemed to look right into his mind and understand exactly what he meant. He felt something settle within him again and his mind seemed to sway under the clarity that it felt. He squeezed her hand instinctively to let her know that he was ever so glad that she was his. She didn't say anything but her smile lit up her face and told him all that he needed to know. She turned east and took the lead, pulling him along instead.

They weaved through the streets until finally they stopped in front of a small house. Urla looked at him nervously. Bifur simply nodded and gave her a smile. She smiled back, still nervously and knocked on the door.

The door flung open and a heavy set dwarf woman burst out. She seemed to freeze for a second taking in Urla and then the woman slapped his One across her face. Urla didn't make a sound. The woman moved to hit her again. Bifur felt his chest grow tight with rage; he could not stand to anyone hit his One. Even if the person was her kin. As the dwarf woman's hand swung again, Bifur stepped in front of her and the slap resounded off his cheek. The woman glared at him first in anger then in shock. Bifur glared at the woman and was pleased to see her step back into the safety of the house. Bifur turned to cup Urla's chin in his hand and titled her face to see what damage had been done.

The skin was turning to an angry red. She didn't look up to meet his eyes. He ran light fingers over the mark and felt her shudder. Her jaw clenched and her lips trembled but the tears that Bifur felt wanting to fall from her eyes, did not come. Bifur watched his One in pride as she composed herself and turn to face the dwarf woman in the door. The woman looked as bit fearfully but the angry glare returned to her eyes when she looked at Urla.

"Mother…" Urla began, in common speech.

"Don't mother me!" the dwarf woman shouted at her, also in common speech, "This is where you were last night? Out with some strange dwarf male, doing goodness knows what! That was wrong Urla! This is not proper! You should have known better."

"I know," Bifur could hear the misery in his One's voice and it cut into him like a blade, "I'm sorry mother. I was wrong."

Bifur could not bear to let his One be shamed like this. Yes, spending the night with him, even if He was her One, was not proper since he was still a stranger. But it was also the most right thing had ever happened to him. And he knew that she felt the same way. If she had to bear shame for finding her One, he would not let her bear it alone. He squeezed her hand again and stepped in front of Urla. The Dwarf woman looked up at him, fear crossing her face once again.

"_My name is Bifur_," Bifur said as politely as possible, in Khuzdûl, "_I am her One and she is mine. I am sorry for worrying you, but I am not sorry that she was with me_." He felt Urla grip his hand tight.

"_I will court her right, if that pleases you. But if you want her to not be with me_," Bifur paused and glared at the woman again, "_I will take her from you_. _She is My One_."

The woman stared at him for a long time, but Bifur did not flinch. He was used to standing or sitting still for long periods of time. He knew that the dwarf woman was sizing him up and turning the words over in her mind. He felt Urla's hand slip from his and her fingers flitted over his palm.

"Thank you," she signed onto his skin. Bifur curled his fingers in so that he could hold onto her hand again. Just then the dwarf woman sighed and looked away from him to his One.

"Is he your One?" she asked tiredly.

"Yes," Urla said the surety in her voice ran through Bifur and made him stand a bit straighter. The dwarf woman looked back to Bifur.

"I will let you court my daughter," she said at last, "I never thought that she would find her One, but it seems that she has. I expect you know the customs?"

"_I do_," Bifur said in Khuzdûl, then to his surprise he heard himself roll the words of the common speech off his tongue, "I am honored to have your daughter as mine."

The woman nodded and called to Urla as she stepped back inside. Urla moved past Bifur then to Bifur's surprise she turned and flung her arms about him and buried her face in his neck.

"_I am glad you are my One_," she said in Khuzdûl, then she pulled back from him and giving him a bright smile she entered the house. Bifur stayed outside till the door was closed then he slowly moved away walking towards his own home as if he was in a daze.

He had found his One. He was officially courting his One. His One loved him. The world was becoming crowded but Bifur didn't feel like he wanted to escape. He finally reached his own small home and suddenly he was being embraced tightly and squashed between two firm bodies. He blinked out of his thoughts and found that both Bombur and Bofur were babbling something. He let the two of them hold him and babble until they had ranted and raved all that they needed to. Then Bofur pulled away and held him by the shoulders.

"Where have you been Bifur?" Bofur said with tears glistening in his eyes, "We were worried!" Bifur felt a smile cross his face as he said in very polite Khuzdûl ,

"_I found my One_."


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Bifur watched in amusement as his cousins' jaws dropped. Bofur tried to say something but nothing more that senseless mumbles came out. Bombur simply stared.

"Your One?" Bofur asked softly, after sitting himself down on a chair. Bifur nodded taking a seat beside him. Bombur sat down opposite to Bifur and reached across and took his hand.

"What is her name? What does she look like?" Bombur asked his voice tinged with awe.

Bifur paused; his mind still held the unusual clarity that he had gained when he and his One had connected in a way that Bifur had never felt before. He didn't know how his mind would respond now to this new path of thinking. He frowned and let himself drop back into his mind as he usually would. He knew that his kin expected this and would wait for him to return and answer them. To his surprise and relief; his mind responded and it seemed to rise to meet him. Urla's smiling face blossomed into his memory and he felt his mind grow stronger as the image grew more vivid.

"_Her name is Urla_," Bifur said slowly. He caught the surprised gasps from his kin but he did not let it daunt him. His One had given him something that he could not explain and he did not desire to lose it. "_She is_…" words seemed to fail him so he gestured in Iglishmek for a bit and then ended off with saying, "_Beautiful_."

By the time he was done, Bombur and Bofur were not only looking at him with awe, but also with mischievous smirks on their faces. The sly looks however were offset by the tears glistening in their eyes. Bofur took a deep breath, wiped his nose and gave Bifur a huge smile.

"I…" Bofur began and cleared the throat, "I am really happy. I really am Bifur. Finding your One. Wow. I wish you all the luck in the world." He trailed off and looked away into the distance. Bombur nodded and squeezed Bifur's hand.

"It is a rare and beautiful thing. I am glad that you found her Bifur. Did you meet her kin?" Bombur asked. Bifur nodded.

"_I am courting her with her Kin's permission_," Bifur said looking at Bombur. Suddenly the situation hit him hard again and he leaned back in the chair; his mind going into the same daze it had when he had walked home earlier, "_I am courting her. I need to_…"

Bifur groaned and laid his cheek against the table top. The many rules and courtship rituals started spinning through his mind. He lifted his hands above his head and signed his frustration quite vehemently in Iglishmek. It did not make things better to hear his kin burst out into outrageous laughter.

Bifur spent a restless night wondering what he should do for the first part of courting. According to the Dwarf rituals he had to make something to show that he was interested in courting his one and then he had to wait for her reply which would come in three days after his gift giving. Bifur turned onto his side and stared out into the darkness hoping that inspiration would hit him. Nothing came.

He turned to face the wall with his eyes still staring unseeingly. He sank back into his memories. They rushed up as if eager to make themselves known. He remembered the feeling of lying next to his One, her breath on his face and her warmth melting into his own. He closed his eyes and let the peace that he had felt when she had snuggled against him, wash over him once again. She was beautiful. More than beautiful. She was like a proud mountain that stood in the midst of a wide plain, casting a welcome shadow over the trees. Her love and understanding were like trails of gold that ran deep into her core and her beauty was like smooth rock that one desired to press their cheek against and feel the coolness run thorough the body. As Bifur thought about his One long into the hours of the morning, his first gift began to take form in his mind. The sun shot over the slopes of the Blue Mountains to find him long awake with a block of wood and his crafting knife.

It took two days and nights of almost constant work for Bifur to complete his gift. When it was done, he showed it to Bofur and Bombur who promptly lost their voices and could only nod in agreement. It was indeed a beautiful gift. Bifur placed in into a simply box with a solitary ruby on the top and with a deep breath and parting advice from Bofur and Bombur, he set off down the streets to his One's house.

As Bifur neared the house he began to feel nervous and crowded. The people seemed to be passing much too close to him and some were giving him weird looks. Bifur felt the urge to turn and get away. He clenched his hands and the familiar roughness of the wood jerked him back to reality. He stopped walking and stared down at the box in his hands. This was why he was here, braving the crowds in his streets and in his mind. He was here for his One. He could no longer turn and run from the stresses in his mind. She was the one who could save him. If he turned and ran again, he would never be whole again. He took a steadying breath, feeling the clarity that always followed her memory. Then he resumed walking and soon arrived at her doorstep. With a shaking hand Bifur tapped on the door.

He winced. The tap sounded more like very loud pounding. He stood afraid that no one was home when the door suddenly flung open. His One stood in the door way. Her polite expression immediately changed into a glowing smile.

"_Bifur_!" she cried and stepped forward to meet him. Bifur took her into his arms without a second thought, forgetting the 'no contact' part of the courtship rituals. He just wanted to feel her against him. She nuzzled into his neck and whispered, '_My One_,' against his skin. Bifur stroked her hair and signed '_My One'_ against the thick soft mane. Suddenly she drew back from him and covered her mouth.

"_The courtship customs_!" she exclaimed in Khuzdûl, "_I forgot_." Bifur smiled at her and held out the box.

"_I forgot too_," he said, "_My first gift to you_." Urla looked at the box and blushed. She took a deep breath and took the box from him, her fingers brushing over his. Bifur felt a strange but familiar thrill run thought him at her touch.

"_I accept this token of your affection_," she replied as was the custom, "_I shall token my affection in the time appointed._" Then she opened the box and took out a small carved mountain.

The Mountain was covered with tiny emeralds of different hues to mimic trees and grasses. Rivulets of aquamarine ran down the slopes and fed dark pools of sapphire. Urla stood as if frozen by the sight of the mountain. Bifur shifted uncomfortably.

"_You don't like it_?" he asked hesitantly after she had said nothing but stood holding the gift in silence. She shook her head and Bifur's heart sank. He stared at the ground not knowing what to say. His One did not like his gift.

A hand touched his chin and he followed the pressure to lift his head. He met his One's light brown eyes.

"_I did not mean that I did not like it when I shook my head_," she said softly as if she had read his mind, "_I…It's amazing Bifur. I don't know how to describe it. It's…more than beautiful._"

"_No_," Bifur said stepping close to her, "_You are more than beautiful_." He saw the moment that she connected with him and read into his words the meaning behind them.

"_You made this of me_," she said even softer running her fingers over the slopes. Bifur reached down and with a small movement undid the clasp that held the sides of the mountain shut. The front half opened up to reveal and hollow cavern inside. On the walls of the cavern, the words '_For My One_' were written in gold and from the Khuzdûl, slender streaks of gold ran down to pool into a heart shaped lake.

"_Bifur!_" Urla gasped as she gazed down at the shining gold. Bifur took one hand and placed it on his chest over his heart.

"_From my heart to yours_," he said softly and placed his hand over her heart. He felt the steady beating of her heart quicken and before he knew what was happening, her arms were flung around his neck and her face was buried in his beard.

She didn't say anything and she didn't need to. Bifur held her close, this time conveniently forgetting the customs.


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

* * *

Urla sat looking at the small but intricately carved mountain that stood on her little bedside table. She sighed, opened the mountain for the tenth time and looked in at the heart shaped lake. She sighed again as she closed it. Her sisters had teased her mercilessly about her sighs claiming that love had turned into a swooning dwarf maiden but it wasn't that. She loved Bifur's gift; really she did. But…she sighed again as she touched the gem trees and traced the aquamarine rivers; how was she ever going to compete with a gift like this! The skill of her One shone through the gift that he gave her. She knew that she three days in which she had to craft a gift to show her affection. She had always thought that she was a fair enough crafter, but now she saw that she skills were sorely lacking. What could she carve that could compare to the sheer magnificence of this gift. With a last sigh she got up and flung herself onto her bed and let her depression take into sleep.

Urla woke up the next morning with a headache. She touched the mountain as she left her room, her heart sinking even further. She ate morosely and went to her classes and sat sullenly until it was over and trudged her way home. She didn't even bother to eat dinner but escaped to her room. She placed pillows against the headboard and got out her knife and a block of wood. She then put on her crafting apron and jumped into bed, lounging comfortable against the soft pillows. She stayed there for a long while turning the block over and over in her mind waiting for inspiration to come.

Long ago her father told her that good craft-dwarves always had a picture of what the end product would be in their minds before they started crafting. That when they looked at a block of wood or a lump of metal the end craft was already present to them and that they simply pick away the excess of reveal the hidden image inside. That is what makes _good _craft-dwarves. But excellent craft-dwarves; master craft-dwarves did not need to have an image beforehand. They simply took the metal and the wood and placed the hammer and knife to the material and let the material shape itself out. In the end the product that was made reflected both the nature of the material and the inner emotions of the dwarf that made it. In other words excellent crafts were made from the heart and not the mind.

Urla knew that Bifur was her One and that she loved him. That was her heart. She knew that he crafted her a gift that was beyond her skill to match. That was her mind. She sat with the block of wood still being turned in her hand. She closed her eyes and let her love wash away the fear and the depression. She saw Bifur's small smiles and felt the safeness that she felt when his arms were around her. She remembered the softness of his beard and the gentle touch of his fingers on her skin. She remembered the wonderful feeling she felt when they both connected with each other in that unnaturally blissful way. She smiled to herself and with nothing but the love of her One pouring from her heart and coursing through her mind and body she laid the blade against the block and began carving.

Urla lost track of time as she carved. It was only when she was done did she lift the blade away from her wood and raised her arms over her head and stretched. She yawned and grimaced as her stiff muscles protested the motion. She rolled her shoulder back and forth to work out the kinks. She glanced out her window and was surprised to see the sun illuminating the wooden slats. She rubbed her eyes as another yawn over took her. Her eyes strayed to the carving in her hand and she smiled to herself. It wasn't as good as his gift but it came from her heart. She hugged the carving to herself as she pulled the pillows down and laid them flat and went to sleep.

Urla looked at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Today was the day. She had to give her reply gift to Bifur. She ran her fingers over the carving and then placed it into one the first boxes that she had learned to make. The she left her room and made her way out the door. One of Bifur's relatives had called on her house the day before saying he would come to escort her to their house considering that she did not know where it was and that he would also preside over the gift giving ceremony. Her mother had agreed and now here he was standing beside the door with a pipe in hand and floppy hat set jauntily on his head. When he saw her he stood up straight and bowed to her, sweeping his hat off his head and then back on when he rose.

"You must be maid Urla," the dwarf said, "My name is Bofur. I'm Bifur's cousin. I am might pleased to meet finally. Bifur's talks about you a lot. I'm here to take you to him. Are you ready?"

Urla smiled at the introduction and the liked the talkative beaming dwarf. She held her hand out.

"I am Urla. Bifur and I haven't spoken that much so I do not know of his kin. But I am glad to have met you finally as well. And I am ready and nervous too." Bofur laughed and took her hand in a firm grip and shook it.

"I like you lass. I can see now how you can be Bifur's One. All jazzed up he was about it too. Talking and signing like a madman. Almost went out his mind trying to craft that gift for you. Poor soul. Love and its wonders I suppose," Bofur continued with his ramble as he led her down the streets but Urla didn't mind and soon she was rambling along with Bifur's kin as if she had known him all her life.

Soon they arrived at the house. Urla swallowed nervously as she took in the small building where he One lived. It was not the most beautiful of places but it was lovingly and strongly built; that much she could tell. She suspected that the house reflected the people that lived in it.

"It's is not much to look at," Bofur said quietly beside her, "But it serves us well." Urla smiled at him, gripped her box hard.

"It is not the building that makes a home," Urla said, "But the love of the people that live in it. My father used to say that one could live in a dump and it would be like a castle if one had love surrounding them. I believe that. Your house is a home, Master Bofur. And I am glad that I love one that lives here." Bofur gave her a different kind of smile and then with soft clearing of his throat he nodded at the door.

"Well come on in then, Bifur will be waiting," Bofur said and led her over the threshold.

Inside the house was cool and pleasantly dark. The homely look from the outside prevailed strongly on the inside. Urla looked around the rooms as Bofur led her into what looked liked the dining area. Bifur was seated at the table fiddling with a knife and block of wood. Urla smiled to see that he looked just as nervous as she felt. Behind him in the kitchen area stood a large dwarf busy about a pot but she could see him observing her out from the corner of his eye. She flashed him and smile and a small wave feeling a bit unsure of how to face this one of Bifur's kin. But the smile and wae that followed took her nerves right away.

She looked back at her One to see that he was looking at her with those intense grey brown eyes and smiling softly.

"_Urla_," he said and the tenor of his voice ran shivers through her. She swallowed hard and walked up to him hoping that she would not trip and fall over.

"_I present my token of affection_," Urla followed the custom wrote, "_Your feelings are return thee_." Bifur nodded and took the box from her, his fingers grazing her own. This time she definitely shivered. She heard a soft snort coming from behind Bifur and looked to see Bofur grinning and the large dwarf furiously turning the pot. She blushed and looked back to see Bifur examining the box.

"_This is good craft_," he said softly so that she alone could hear.

"_Thank you_," Urla said shyly. She saw his eyebrows go up in question then the answer dawned on him. He smiled at her, nodded with an impressed air and then opened the box. Urla held her breath as he took out her gift. Bifur looked for a long time at the gift then slowly took it out.

It was a shield, sword and axe. The shield lay in front with the sword and axe, crisscrossed along the back of it. Bifur gazed at it and then looked into Urla eyes. For a second she thought that he hated it was about to run out the house when she noticed the tears. Then all her fear and doubt disappeared and she knew he understood. Her craft meant several things. The Sword and Axe represented the honor and pride of the dwarves while the Shield represented the loving, caring and protective nature of their kind. But also the craft was personal. The Axe represented the past and the Sword represented the future while the Shield represented the Love that bound those two times together and made them easier to bear. Bifur was her One and she was His. They were both represented in her gift. They were both the Axe and the Sword and their Love would protect and support them for both the past and the future.

Bifur took a deep shuddering breath and reached up to touch her face. Urla leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. A soft _ahem_ sounded behind them but much to Bofur and Bombur's lack of surprise, neither of them listened.


	8. Chapter 8

Bifur smiled at the frown on his One's face. She was hunched over a piece of wood moving the blade meticulously across the solid surface.

"_Not so hard_," Bifur said softly, "_Let it glide_." Urla's head snapped up, she opened her mouth angrily. Bifur reached over and tucked in a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her face. Their gazes held for long seconds and then she sighed and smiled back at him.

"_I'm trying to do just that_," she said equally softly, but Bifur heard the exasperation in her voice, "_But it is just not coming out like yours_." She gestured with her blade to the neat horse that stood on the bench in front of them. Bifur moved closer to her side and placed his hands over hers.

"_You are not to compete with me_," he said, "_carving is finding one's own way._" With that he gripped her hands and guided them. It was strange, he thought as his body pressed against hers, it was strange how much he had changed and not changed since he met his One. For one, he had become more talkative; even Bofur had mentioned it, since she came into his life. She knew so little Khuzdûl and their conversations became a lot like lessons. Albeit lessons filled with weighted words, blushes and stolen touches, but lessons none the less. He had always thought that Khuzdûl was expressive but teaching his One Khuzdûl made him appreciate it even more. Another thing was that he was less inclined to sink very deeply into thought. Sure he would sink into his mind when the world began to feel crowded but he realized that he didn't need to much anymore. It felt as if he had grown stronger and could bear through it. All because of the dwarf maiden next to him, that ran shiver through him every time her skin touched his.

"_There see_?" Bifur all but whispered in her ear, "_relax and let the blade do its job._" He felt the heat flush off her skin as she half turned to look at him, her cheek pressing against his chin. She gave him a shy smile and then nodded. Just then she glanced out the window and gave a groan.

"_What is it_?" Bifur asked.

"_I have braiding classes this afternoon_," she said groaning again. Bifur let her hands go and turned her to look at him.

"_Why do you dislike braiding_?" he asked. Urla looked at him and then looked away. She fiddled with her tunic.

"_I am not very good at it_," she admitted finally, "_I just can't seem to get it right no matter how hard I try_." Bifur nodded and then held her chin with one hand and raised her face to look at him.

"_Just because it's hard does not mean you should hate it. When this happened to me_," he reached and touched the axe on his head with his free hand, "_Many things became hard. I could not do things that I normally could have. I was angry with myself and hated life long and hard because I felt like I was cheated_."

Bifur paused then went on. "_But I realized that I just had to take things slower. Look at things from a different angle and maybe try to the same things another way. Then things became a lot less hard. So my One, don't hate braiding_. _It is an important custom for our people. Just like carving, it's is about finding your own way, not mimicking others_."

His One looked long into his eyes and then with a chocked sob leaned into him. He held her trembling body until he felt her sigh and rest more comfortably against him. He stroked her hair, enjoying the weight of her body on his.

"_Thank you_," she said softly, "_for understanding and for helping me to understand_." Bifur felt that strange but now welcome clarity course through him.

"_And thank you_," he said, "_For giving me the chance_."


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

* * *

Urla frowned and pursed her lips as she concentrated on the braiding style that Madam Reyna had just shown them. Her braiding dummy was having a bad hair day. She sighed and let the braid go limp. Then she closed her eyes and thought of her One. The memory of his handsome face and the soft tenor of his voice calmed her and she opened her eyes ready to give the braid another try. Ever since he had spoken to her a week ago, she had been trying to take her time learning the braiding and weaving. She wanted to get good at it and make him proud of her. So she had been trying various approaches to braiding and weaving. She was making some small headway but she still had a lot of work to do. She took up the comb and ran the bristles to straighten out the mess.

"Hey Urla," a voice made her jump. She turned to see Trema, the prettiest dwarf maiden in the class sitting next to her. Urla raised an eyebrow at her since Trema had never spoken to her before.

"What is it Trema?" Urla asked, her voice betraying the suspicion that she felt. Trema pouted making her beard fluff out in the way that made all the dwarf boys go crazy. Urla was painfully made aware of her lack of facial hair. She sighed inwardly and was about to turn away and begin her braiding again when Trema leaned forward and rested her chin on Urla's shoulder.

"I heard you met your One," Trema whispered, "What's he like?"

'What's he like?' The thought of describing her One to someone made Urla go speechless. What words could describe his intense eyes and gentle smile? His soft teasing and even softer touches. His gruff yet vulnerable outer appearance that belied a strong yet fragile inner spirit. Urla was about to start talking when she caught the gleam in the other dwarf maiden's eyes. Then she understood. Trema wasn't interested in knowing about her One, she just wanted to gossip and possibly make fun of her One. A hot rage flowed through Urla, but her voice was calm.

"There are no words to describe him," Urla said and stiffly turned back and gave her undivided attention to her braiding dummy. She felt Trema huff and mutter something and move away. Urla sighed to herself again and wished hard that she could see her One today and feel his arms around her.

The class seemed to drag on as Urla's temper slowly leaked away. But the time it was done she felt physically tired as if she had run all over Ered Luin in one day. She wandered through the streets with no clear destination in mind. She just didn't want to go home and have to nurse both a spent temper and bouts of loneliness.

Either by fate or by a subconscious route, she found herself standing in front of her One's house. She stood twisting her hands knowing that it was quite inappropriate to come knocking at his door without prior notification since they were officially courting. So before she could convince herself to be proper, she knocked. There was silence and she sighed in relief. As she turned away she heard the door open and her One's voice called after her.

"_Urla_?" Bifur said, then when she turned his face grew concerned, "_What happened?"_ The words broke her resolve and she took a hesitant step toward him. He held her gaze for one split second then opened his arms. She rushed into them and buried her face in his chest, inhaling his musky scent. He pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

He held her there for a long time, until she sighed and finally pulled away. He looked questioningly at her.

"I had a hard day," she muttered. He shook his head and led to sit at the table and went to put on tea. She fiddled with a wooden bear sitting on the table while Bifur sat next to her. When she glanced at him, he was combing out his bread, the silver clasps lying beside him. He looked at her.

"_What is it_?" he asked. She licked her lips and asked hesitantly.

"_May I braid your beard_?"

He seemed to freeze. Urla immediately regretted her request.

"_It's alright. You don't have let me. I would probably mess it up anyway. You go ahead…_" she trailed off and went back to playing with the bear. She heard Bifur chuckle and then a warm hand cupped her chin and turned her head. She looked up to see him looking down at her with a soft smile on his face.

"I _would love if you would braid my beard_," he said. She flushed as he turned so that he was straddling the bench. She mimicked his position and took the comb he offered. With a deep breath she continued the combing.

With each stroke she felt her face grow hotter and hotter and the ghost of breaths that brushed her face from him, felt extremely cool. She then laid the comb between them and licked her lips once more before beginning.

She started with the one on his chin first, marveling at the softness of the hair. She carefully parted the white and black portions and began to interchange the strands so that alternating white and black bands would appear. It was easier than the dummy, despite the fact that her heart was beating like a frantic drum. When she was done she clasped the long silver clasp.

She looked up into Bifur's eyes as she took a hold of the smaller portions that ran from his moustache. She swallowed hard at the intensity of the gaze that held hers, but strangely her heart slowed down to a steady rhythm. As she divided the hair again, and to her surprise her fingers deftly moved and the braid appeared as if by magic. She moved quickly to the other side, afraid that her luck would run out. Halfway down the braid it struck her as to why the braiding had become easy. It was because she was doing it for someone she loved. She was braiding from the heart instead of from her mind, forcing her fingers to work. It was the same as if she was carving, but this time the blade was her fingers and the hair was the wood. She finished the braid and clasped it off.

She looked back up into his eyes and saw a small smile on his face and she knew that he knew she had found out the secret. She smiled and trailed her fingers over the braids.

"_Well done_," he said following the motion of her fingers and then intertwined his with hers. He then leaned down and pressed their foreheads together. The roush side of the axe rested against her skin but Urla didn't mind. She sighed contently then reached up to kiss his forehead, and then very gently she pressed her lips to the axe.

Bifur looked at her and then in a soft awed voice he said, "_I love you_."

Urla felt as if her heart would burst at the words. She swallowed the tears and replied to him, "_I love you too_."


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

* * *

Bifur watched as his One talked happily with his two cousins. Every since that day when he had finally spoken the words that brought to the front all they felt for each other; things had gotten a lot easier for them. It was as if the last barrier of emotion and formality had been removed and they could not pursue they love with a stronger connection. For they both knew and had heard from the other's lips the sacred words; 'I love you.' Of course Urla had gotten a royal quarrel when they had arrived at her house. Bifur had insisted that he go along with her even though she had told him that she would be fine. Turned out it was a good thing that he went, since he was able at the end to placate her mother with those three words once again.

"_I love her_," he told her mother, "_If you try and keep her from me, that will not go well with me_." It wasn't meant to sound like a threat and fortunately her mother didn't take it like one. He saw that much in her eyes. She simply stared at him, nodded stiffly and closed the door on him. Still her mother kept her two weeks from him and when she finally arrived at their door, she had been swept up by Bofur and Bombur before he reached her. At his surprised face, they all admitted to secretly meeting regularly behind his back; in order to make sure that she was really a good dwarf, that is what Bofur and Bombur said. Urla said she wanted to know of his kin more. Whatever the ulterior motives of the meetings; the ultimate result was that his One and his Kin had become fast friends. Even to the point that Bombur shared his food with her. It was just one small bulb, but that was a big deal.

Bifur smiled to himself and caught sight of his One smiling back at him. He felt his smile grow bigger and with a few steps she was sitting beside him. He pulled her into his arms and she sighed and nuzzled into his chest. He felt that now familiar settled feeling wash over him again. He had a nagging premonition that he would never be fully settled, that he would always be one step shy of being whole. But if him being whole and normal would deprive him of this connection he had with his One, Bifur would gladly live partially completed in his mind. She would make him whole. She already made him whole. He leaned his chin to rest on her head and just held her there till he felt as if she had become a part of his body.

The visit was over far too soon and she hugged him long and tight before she butted heads with Bofur and Bombur before waving as she went off. Bifur watched her till she was out of sight.

"_She is a fine one_," Bofur said pulling out his pipe, "_full of fire, her_."

Bifur heard an undertone in the words.

"_What happened_?" he asked. Bofur glanced at him and then took his time lighting his pipe. Bifur knew that his cousin was deciding if to tell him something or not. So he waited.

"_We were walking along one time in the lower market and some pretty dwarf maiden came up and tried to talk to Urla. Clearly your One didn't like her but the pretty dwarf lass kept talking. Urla was about to end the conversation when the pretty lass asked who we were_," Bofur pulled at his pipe, "_turned up her nose at us. Urla said that we were he One's kin. The pretty dwarf lass laughed and asked if you were like us. Well you should have just seen Urla's face. Gone still and rock hard._"

Bifur could see the scene as it played out while Bofur talked. His cousin paused for abit then continued.

"_Urla asked her, what she meant by that. The gal laughed again and then said that how we looked rather more under the ground, than most dwarves. Well, I would not have believed it if I didn't see. One minute the pretty thing was gloating about us being poor and then the next she was sitting with a bloodied nose. Urla held her by the tunic and yanked her off the ground. I think she told her that the day the pretty lass met her One she would be able to understand; that when it comes to that kind of Love it does not matter, who they are, what is their status or where they come from. And she hoped that if that does happen; that her own stupidity won't blind her_." Bofur pulled at his pipe again.

"_But she said it is a lot less kind words. Some random rough Khuzdûl thrown into the mix with some rude Iglishmek signs that I have no idea where she picked it up from_."

From the smug look on Bofur's face and the soft laugh from Bombur behind them Bifur could very well guess where she learned them from. He frowned at the not so good lessons his kin was giving his One. Then the thought of his One standing up for his kin and himself filled with a deep warmth and love for her.

"_She didn't need to do that_," Bifur said softly staring off in the direction Urla had last gone.

"_We said about the same thing_," Bombur said, "_But she turned on us and said that we were family and family stands up for each other_."

Bofur nodded then smiled and said, "_But in a lot less kind words than that_."


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

* * *

Urla felt like her world was falling apart. She kept shaking her head as if she would clear the words from her mind.

"_No_," she said finally, "_I can't let you. I don't want you to say yes_."

Her One looked back at her from with sad but determined grey eyes.

"_We already said yes_," Bifur said, "_Bofur, Bombur and I. We agreed to join the quest of Thorin Oakenshield._"

Urla looked at her beloved friend; her kin. They looked back then dropped their gazes as if ashamed. But they were not. She saw the same sad determined look in their eyes as well. They were going. They were all going. Her One and her new kin were leaving her in this cold Blue Mountain and going off on some mad quest with an exiled king to fight and kill a dragon. A Dragon!

She turned away from them and hid her face in her hands. She didn't understand, couldn't understand. She heard soft footsteps leaving the room and knew that Bofur and Bombur had stepped out. Bifur was still sitting beside her. She could always sense when he was there. Warm arms wrapped around her. She wanted to pull away, scream and make him stay. But the words stuck in her throat. Instead hot tears fell; pulling from her all the thing she wanted to say but could not.

"_My One_," he whispered in her ear. She shuddered and then suddenly flung her arms around his neck.

"_Please don't leave me_," she begged. She felt him stiffen then breath out a long slow breath.

"_I don't want to_," he said.

"_Then why_?" she asked.

"_Because I have to_," Bifur said, "_I need to_."

"_I don't understand_," Urla said miserably. He reached up one hand to stroke the back of her head while he spoke.

"_I want to have a good home to take you too when we get married_," Bifur said, making her heart leap and fall at the same time, "_I don't have the means to do that here. If I help Thorin achieve his quest I can provide that for you. A new home where you can have all you want and need. Space to raise a family and still accommodate our both families._" Urla swallowed hard as he continued.

"_Thorin is a good and noble dwarf and true to his word. If you have ever seen him, you would know he can achieve anything he sets his mind too_."

Urla nodded. She had seen the famous King Thorin. A stern face, blazing blue grey eyes and a proud bearing. Yes, he was a King. But she disliked him for taking away her One away from her.

"_But it is a Dragon_," she said. Bifur sighed and the rumble of his chest vibrated through hers.

"_I know_," Bifur said, "_But he has not been seen for sixty years Urla_. _He could very well be dead_. _The portents have been seen and they are correct_."

"_He could also still be alive and the portents could be wrong_," Urla said stubbornly. Bifur pulled away to look at her in the eyes. His mild amusement and annoyance snapped her out of her childish pout. She swallowed hard and looked away.

"_I am afraid that I will lose you, that's all_," she said feeling the tears well up, "_I can't bear that pain Bifur_." He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his.

"_I know that. I am also afraid that I will die and not be able to return to you_," He said, "_But I want to provide for you to Urla. This is my only chance. Will you not let me have it_?"

"_I will let you have it_," she sighed feeling her heart grow heavy, "_But I want you to promise me that you will make it alive. And you will come back to me_." Her voice broke in at the end of the sentence. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

"_I promise_," Bifur said, wiping the tears, "_Just wait for me_."

"_I will wait_," Urla cried her voice a soft hoarse whisper, "_Forever. Till the world's ending. I will wait for you Bifur_."

She saw something shift in his eyes and they gained a clarity that she knew would never fade away. She smiled at him and he smiled back at her and then he kissed her.

It was soft and rough at the same time. She felt all his fear, love and fierce pride in that kiss. His lips moved smoothly against hers and she felt herself responding to deepen it, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He pressed his lips harder against hers and wrapped his strong arms around her body pulling her towards him.

Urla didn't know how long it lasted but when they finally pulled away she was dizzy and breathless. She leaned onto his chest her mind heady with the unexpected pleasure.

"_My One_," he whispered sounding just as breathless, "_I love you_."

"_I love you_," she whispered back.


	12. Chapter 12

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT

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Epilogue

Bifur stood outside the gates of Erebor his eyes fixed in the road in front of him. Bofur and Bombur had gone back inside to look or something to eat. It was done. They had defeated the Dragon; who wasn't dead; his One had been right about that. He chuckled to himself as he imagined what she would say when he told her the full story. But the chuckle faded into a deeper sadness. They had lost Thorin, Fili and Kili in that final Battle of Five Armies. It had been a hard time trying to build a life after that, in a mountain where someone else sat on the throne that should have held the line of Durin. But life was like that sometimes. Dark and gloomy clouds hid the sun. But the sun always shines on and shines through. And Bifur had build long and hard the home he promised his One. And today the sun shone through for him because she had sent him a letter saying that she got his own and was now leaving the Blue Mountains with some of her kin to come and be with him.

Bifur scanned the lines of caravans, wagons and crowds of people; looking that head of reddish hair and the strong loving presence that he could have always felt when she was near. He was about to head in a grab something to eat when he saw it. A flash of deep red. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he froze. Then he saw her face and his heart cried out for his One.

"Urla!" he called, "URLA!" She turned this way and that then her eyes locked to his. He felt more that heard the sob as she began running toward him. He ran also to her, people scattering in front of him confused then when they looked back, dawns of understanding rolled over them and soon a path was cleared. Bifur stopped a few seconds before his one crashed into him, her deep voice saying his name over and over.

"Bifur," she cried, "Bifur. Bifur." He hugged her tight inhaling her scent and enjoying that feeling of strange calm and energy that only she brought to him and that he had missed for those long months.

He pulled back to pull her into a kiss. This one however was accompanied by whistles and clapping and outraged cries; Bifur guessed were from her kin. She laughed when they pulled away the pulled him back for another. When they finally got parted long enough to look at each other properly Bifur smiled and cleared the wild hair from her face.

"_Come my One_," he said holding her close him, "_Come see what a home I made for you._"

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Well this is the end folks. I hope that you liked it.

Thanks to:

1. All my readers. If you all didn't read then where would we be?

2. To my reviewers: my inspiration to write is drawn from you all as well. I don't think writing this would be half as fun if you all were not commenting. Really i love to hear from you all. It makes my day.

3. TO J.R.R. Tolkien who made Bifur...well Mahal made Bifur...and Tolkien made Mahal. :)

4. TO P. Jackson who had the wonderful foresight to put an axe into someone's head and still make them cool. I mean who thinks of that?


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